Three Gold Coins
by FinnerSong
Summary: She took him home with only three little gold coins and he would do everything for her. It was such a wonderful deal. AU, not yet Mergana but there will be a sequal. Not a long fic.
1. Chapter 1

**I have another story going on but I decided to post this first. It has been written for months and I don't want to toss it in a trash. Enjoy :) The rating may change immensely but the first chapter is certainly K+!**

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Once upon a time there was a boy who was imprisoned after two months he was born. Confined together with him was a Dragonlord whose name was Balinor. Although balinor was loyal to the king, the king Uther Pendragon still took an oath that he should be executed.

Uther's hatred for magic was known to every household across the borders. His only son was born thanked to magic, but his loving wife was forever taken away by magic. He decided to rid magic out of the land as thoroughly as possible.

The court physician's loyalty to the king could never be doubted—though hardly anyone one knew that he had once practiced magic, except his love Alice. He helped her escaped from Camelot during the Great Purge. Besides, he also helped quite a few sorcerers get away from Uther Pendragon's talons. He helped magic itself escape.

That's how we've got Morgause, the witch with blonde hair. Her parents gave her to Gaius the night before execution and she was secretly sent away. Morgause at that time was a very bothering child, but her boohoos didn't wake up the stupid guards of Camelot. Let along Merlin who was much less worrisome—he was sweet most of the time, with his sapphire eyes looking at you. His skin was soft and creamy-white and his ears stuck out.

Balinor found Merlin wrapped in a blanket under a tree on his way of abscondence. He took Merlin with him and they had no place to stay so they had to move day after day. He tried to find him some milk.

Merlin could barely talk but he moved objects with his mind around. His mother must have believed that he was the devil's child to abandon him.

They were under arrest again months later.

Gaius arrived on time in front of the barriers of the dungeon. The guards were all sleeping soundly as the potion onset.

"Take care of him, Gaius." Balinor moved closer, "He's the most gifted child I've ever seen. You know, a gift for magic."

"Oh, that's impressive. I know a place where he can be carefully tended to and I will take him there safely."

"Thank you, my old friend. You have no idea how lucky I am to know you."

* * *

Morgana the Witch was not beautiful, but men seldom noticed that when they were enchanted by her charm. _It was her charm, not her magic._

She was sixteen and has marvelous skin, a lot of hair which was raven and curly and wild; her lips were red like wine, her eyes were pale green like emerald and starred with black tilted lashes; there was a tiny mole on her neck which made it even more slender and pale. Men would die for her smooth and round bottom as well as her lovely and flawless bosom. Men would die for her whole figure.

Let's take the day she went to the market as an example. As she approached a shabby carriage and took off the hood of her cloak, Helios who had a swarthy complexion immediately made his way up to her, giving her his best grin of adulation and kissed her snow white hand.

"My maiden."

There was a hint of smile on Morgana's face which looked almost dangerous. For such a young lady in her age, she was a little bit eerily sophisticated.

Helios grin deepened on his face as he uttered, "I really cannot think of a word to express my gratitude to you, dearest Morgana, if it had not been you who had done me such a splendid favor, I am afraid I would have been…" he paused, "the hell with it, law of Camelot!"

Morgana fluttered her eyelashes, "Relax, Helios, you'd better keep your swearing to yourself. You're still smuggling?"

"Good lord, no." He looked around to make sure that nobody noticed, and lifted the screen of the carriage, "I only take one or two of them when I come here. Have to be careful."

Inside there were two little children in ragged, hair askew and face dusty, both of them looked frightened.

"Get one, my maiden? I'll give you a discount—they can cook, make you fires, almost every chore in your house will they finish and no one will even bother how you treated them. All I need is a few gold coins."

"No, thanks, Helios, maybe you can go to and find me another one. These are not good enough for me."

"But—"

"Don't forget the fact I'd given you a hand for more than once." She cast him a smile.

A month later, when Helios raised the screen for her, she saw a boy who was approximately seven or eight sitting inside, almost fearless in his eyes—those eyes were sapphire, and they were now staring curiously at Morgana. His ears looked goofy, she thought, and his hair was still too long and face still dirty.

"You're satisfied, my maiden? I bought him from that corpulent woman who owns a tavern near the town of Camelot, has cost me a lot indeed. He worked for her, of course, and he does cook." He whispered in her ear, "It is said that he is one of your kind."

"Good job you've done, then name your price."

"The boy weighs nearly thirty pounds and a gold coin every ten pounds, so there were three gold coins in total."

"Wow, that's—"

"Don't fuss my maiden—it's my honor to return you the favor."

"Oh, Helios, you always think of your old friend. How kind of you." She looked at him with her mysterious green eyes and smiled.

She paid him the coins and dragged the shackles around the boy's wrists. He followed her. It was such a wonderful deal.

* * *

Morgana's hovel had only one floor and not even an attic was contained, furnishings were dark and stuff piled up the shelves messily. Despite that it was deep inside the forest sunlight could still float through the windows and into every corner—warmly and comfortingly.

Like every child who was bought home by a witch, Merlin had to work and work and work, though he was not an ordinary one. Some witch wasn't evil—they wouldn't bake you for breakfast once you failed her and would tell you bed time stories. They were very amiable.

Morgana certainly was not amiable at all, nor did she eat children up for meals—she just didn't allow Merlin to use magic when he worked or she would sell him to the king of Camelot who gave rewards for hunting those who had magic.

Like every witch who bought slaves home to work, Morgana was on top of the world—she used to do everything by herself, she had no choice, but now she could enjoy her days like a queen. Further more, she had another person in her place now, and he had magic. She hadn't expected that he had magic.

The boy didn't show up in her dreams.

It had never been anything good in her dreams—it was all terrible nightmares. She squirmed and shrieked then woke up all nights when they were haunting her. She'd seen her guardian dead in one of them—his name was Gorloris and an arrow shot in his chest. Cendred's men did this.

Gorloris fight for Camelot, he was a noble knight.

She thought she needed to find him—tell him to come back or he would die—but it was too late. She only saw the funeral King Uther gave him.

She had never got tears in her eyes ever since.

Merlin worked slowly without magic.

He wiped the floor with a cloth and a bucket to hold the water, on his knees with earnest and scrupulousness. Morgana was watching him—she watched him go outside the house to pick some flowers and put them into the vase, the air at no time became fragrant.

She watched him in the kitchen, it took a long time for him to finished, but—they were tasty. She was amazed at his culinary skills.

She stabbed the fish and put it into her mouth. It had been six years since the last time she had something like this.

Gorloris didn't have magic, but he was a fantastic cook.

His death was like a poisonous curse, preventing her from sleeping and having a heart. She suffered insomnia together with headache—she actually forgot how it felt like to sleep until she had got the healing bracelet from Morgause.

However, when she swallowed down the last mouthful of soup, she felt that she would like to weep—but then a sharp noise interrupted her moment of silence. She rose from her perch to see what was going on.

It was Merlin. He had pulled the cloth which covered the healing bracelet off to sweep one of her shelves. The bracelet fell to the ground and smashed into pieces.

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**So, what do you think?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the lovely feedbacks! I'm totally sorry about the whole "Mergana" thing 'cause I didn't really make a plan of this story but now I've got a schedule. I decided that when I rewrote the story using English I'd better keep it K+ rated because I don't really want Merlin to be severely hurt by Morgana. So I hope the idea won't be too sullen or plain or illogical. And this chapter...**

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Morgana may not be a total baddie (she believed she was, though) but she was easy to be an angry one, especially in circumstances when someone had broken her bracelet she cheated from Morgause—she was outraged because she had tried every means before finally getting it, and he must pay for this—she picked up a lump of chopped firewood and literally beat him with it, pinning him right to the bench where she was sitting to have her soup, hearing his short gasps with each blow. After this was done she walked away with a sober manner.

Later that evening Merlin sat on the steps of the porch and picked up a small stick of branch—he lightened it with fire and blew and watched the sparks spread into the air—he cast a spell then it started forming the shape of a dragon.

The first snow hadn't yet arrived and the withered grass smelt good—Merlin looked into the sky, it was at least several feet deeper compared to when it was in summer, and the sweet moon was illuminating brilliantly. He smiled like the breeze did in this early autumn.

The dragon then began to talk.

"I am Kilgharrah, hello, young warlock."

"Glad to see you, Kilgharrah."

Morgana was looking for Merlin—she sprung the front door open only to find him talking happily to a spray of sparks. She really didn't have the mood to let him finish the sentence—she caught one of his ears and dragged him inside the house. He tumbled in and bruised his knees a little. Morgana picked up the pair of boots and made it up side down—water immediately began to dribble from the hem of them, forming a tiny pool underneath. She gave him a kick and then started to strike him with one of her boots.

"Dry them."

Merlin moved to the fireplace and started to dry them. He was idly touching the fabric of the boots—Kilgharrah appeared in the fire once again.

"Would you like me to set the witch's bed on fire when she's asleep Merlin?"

He simply shrugged and grimaced, "she's never asleep."

Kilgharrah seemed quite disappointed—he breathed out some fire and then was gone.

Merlin lay down on his hard little bed, his body was sore and when he moved he would suffer blunt pain.

He was looking at the clear moonlight fell from the window and landed on his quilt. It was as pure as the skin of a unicorn.

He had seen a unicorn in the forest with Hunith when he had just learnt how to talk a long distance, but the day lived long in his memory.

He started to sob—he could now sense the sadness from himself, from Hunith, and even from Morgana.

When Gaius sent Merlin to Hunith, he was still a small baby who had to drink milk for meals three times a day. But it seemed in a twinkling that he had become a boy, learning everything from her eagerly—except magic.

The days spent with Hunith had been both jolly and chaste, until the day their village was attacked by raiders and peace was tore apart.

Their head was a man named Kanon—he asked Hunith to hand in the grains she had stored for winter and since they were not enough, he insisted that he should take Merlin with him. Hunith, who was very brave indeed stood and fight against him. He was wounded but—one of his men gave Hunith' head a (deadly) thump—Merlin had hardly had time to saw her stand up again—he was dragged away by Kanon—he could barely see his way since all of the world was his tears.

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So here was the first snow and the weather had been torturing and merciless ever since, just like Morgana herself. For Morgana who had lost her healing bracelet, sleeping had become a task she could never accomplish—the only thing she could do was to blow out the candle and lying there to observe how the sky turn from dark to light. Though most of the times she needn't wait until it turned bright to hear Merlin splitting firewood in the backyard.

She ate properly, but still she was slenderer and paler as it snowed heavier. And her eyes—when she looked at anyone with them, she was sure she would make them shiver under her gaze—though this had never happened to Merlin.

He forgot to shut the window of her room and the wailing gale outside blew it open, even though she had used her magic to try to pull it back, it was still carried away by the wind with a sickening squeak.

She cursed, bounding from her bed and walked towards Merlin's. She needed a rest—nothing could wake you up, couldn't they? She twitched her lips and pinched his arm severe enough to make him jump—though he didn't. He just looked at her with bleary eyes.

"What's up, Miss?"

"My window's broken and you can ask yourself why." She uttered nonchalantly, "Now I need your bed. Get off."

He sat there and didn't move. He looked…reluctant? But when Morgana decided that it was her turn to lift his blanket and throw him out of bed, he crept out and walked to her room to bring her her own pillow and blanket.

When he came back, the witch had already drifted to tight sleep. Her wild waves of hair covering her face and her mouth open slightly and her breath was even. She looked really pale, he thought. When she was asleep he just watching, never would he think of burning her alive or anything else.

It was nearly two in the morning and Merlin thought he'd better get some sleep as well. He sneakily changed the pillow and blanket for her and she didn't wake up. Congratulations, Merlin!

He lay down in a corner of his room. When he covered himself with the blanket, he sensed that it was…trace of her perfume? He couldn't quite sure whether this had made him feel uncomfortable—they just smelt Morgana-like.

She sat there to drink her tea and have her cake for breakfast, watching the boy on the go—she started to wonder why he didn't cast her any look of bitterness(even smiled at her while she couldn't), and he kept blunder even though she had taught him lessons with firewood, her boots and most of the time her fists. She was sure that her mother had told her about situation like this: what the cause of it and how to heal it, but she just couldn't remember the details. It had been so many years.

Merlin was fixing the window with magic. The snow had stopped and Morgana didn't stop him when she saw his eyes flash gold. She could just let him off this time. Once it was mended, she could go back to her own bedroom again but she had to keep Merlin in a distant corner in order to keep her away from those nightmares.

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**What's the matter with Merlin? He did everything for Morgana 'cause he didn't quite remember what she had done to him in details the next day. Everyday she was just as lovely as she looked like in his eyes. But I believe one day all the memories would come back to him. So, where's the sequal? It depends on to what extend you like this story!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Morgana in this story was just as hysterical as she did in series 5, but look at the way she treated Aithusa—evil style didn't really suit her, right?**

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Morgause the Witch had ginger hair—they almost reached her waist, and her grey eyes—they looked even more mysterious and colder than Morgana's. She was shorter than Morgana, the time she spent on her mount made her calves looked tough.

When she came to pay Morgana a visit on her big black mount a spring morning, she knocked and nobody answered—so she let out a spell and the door bounded open. She pounded against the door of Morgana's bedroom. Morgana woke up, a little bit confused. Then the door sprung open once again.

"I heard that you are sleeping well these days." She yelled.

Morgana roared inwardly—she hated those who dragged her out of bed, but she still got out of it, walked towards Merlin who was still curling in the corner and kicked him awake.

"I'm pretty sure I've told you that Morgause' paying me a visit and you're still sleeping?"

Right, he saw that Morgause was already there to continue her critical voice, "I've never doubted the fact that we are from the same mother, until I found that my sister is a cheeky thief."

"I have no idea what you are talking about, and perhaps—you're the cheeky one who bed with…"

"Careful, sister, I'm older than you—so where's my bracelet? I guessed it supposed to be on your wrist."

Merlin was tensed—he swallowed—but Morgana then waved him off to make some tea so he couldn't stay to wait for the rest of the conversation. _What would Morgause do to him?_

"Your bracelet, it was broken. I carelessly dropped it on the ground." She told (read: lied to) her nonchalantly.

Merlin's meals were cancelled by Morgana for his getting up late this morning, but still he had to work harder since there were two witches in the house waiting to be served.

He didn't try to find something to eat stealthily—he had a feeling that Morgana kept spying him all the time, but when the dinner for the witches was over, he couldn't tolerate any more—there were still some pieces of bread left in the plate, and some soup—he shoved the breads into his mouth and he had to use his tongue for the soup, then Morgause came in.

"It seems that my little Morgana now has bought a lazy slave, and he is not only lazy," she walked closer to him, "You broke my healing bracelet?"

Merlin didn't like her tone when she was talking about Morgana—like Morgana was her pet, but she told Morgause at last, didn't she? Merlin was a little bit dejected, and he merely nodded.

"If I were your mistress, I would simply sell you to the king of Camelot. He has his own vat of hot oil for things like you and so does his fifteen-year-old son Arthur." She reached out a hand and lifted his chin to make him look at her, and he was a little bit afraid (he was still young and she was nineteen, more importantly, Morgana had never done this to him), "Don't worry. No harm will come to you if you bake me a chocolate pie."

He nodded—Morgana finally turned him in, didn't she?

Morgana had already in her nightgown and when she passed the dining table, she spotted Morgause was sitting there digging in a chocolate pie.

"Morgana, your slave—he was not very bright indeed—look, I caught him eating in the kitchen and I told him if he bake me a pie, I wouldn't mention a word to you about it—I can't believe that he was convinced, though his cooking skills were quite adequate."

She placed the last piece of pie in her mouth, put on her cloak and once again disappeared in the darkness.

* * *

Morgana lay on the bed—she was exhausted and no matter how she tried she couldn't get any feelings of sleep—and Merlin was no where to be seen.

Two voices kept hovering in her mind like ghosts—one was her own, calling Morgause a bitch when they quarreled against each other today; calling Cendred a useless coward and she refused to work for him like Morgause did—the other one was Morgause' who warned that this would be the last chance for her to change her mind, the expression on her face was so devour that made Morgana feel sick.

Another thing that made her feel sick was a Morgause who was eating chocolate pie. She started to hate chocolate pies, even though they were still delicious.

And Merlin—he looked harmless to anyone—she tried to sheltered him from Morgause' poisonous abusiveness! Damned this little bastard! She would really like to find him now and give him a proper whipping, outside the house to let the whole forest hear him cry for forgiveness.

But she was too tired to cast a spell to the mirror and figure out where on earth Merlin had gone—her whole body clung to the sheet which had already soaked wet by her own sweat. Her hair was all damped and she stirred—when she had changed another position, she was thinking—she bought him home with only three gold coins, and what if she sold him to the bounty hunter? She certainly would get more—maybe even more than ninety gold coins—and with the money she got she may be able to do anything—maybe she should offer Queen Annis an amount of money to buy herself a new home? It was clear that here, in Cendred's border, would no longer be safe within just a several months for her.

So that it was. _Sold Merlin, got some money and built a new house in Caerleon._ Morgana was always spirited in planning—the new plan had heated her even more, though there was cool wind brushed through the entrance of her house—Merlin was exactly sitting there, confronting both the extreme hunger of himself and the darkness, then gradually dozing off—some insects were just buzzing from a very long distance.

* * *

The dawn had just broken and it was beginning to dew—Morgana walked to the porch on her bare feet, and Merlin was there—the whole night—resting his head on the post, turning and smacking his lips. She smirked but she didn't interrupt him—dreaming something appetizing, huh?

It was another sleepless night again, and she indeed was a little bit resentful—_why Merlin always dreamed of something good?_

She walked down the steps to let herself immerged in the heavy morning mist.

Morgana didn't say a word to Merlin the whole day—except that before breakfast he was reminded that he was still having nothing to eat. He was rather upset, mostly because hunger was a total nuisance and—damn if he could think of any reason that would make her mad with him!

It happened to trap his feet when he was holding a tray of biscuits for tea towards the dinning table. A few of them dropped on the ground and he picked them up without any hesitation, promptly chewed and swallowed—then he looked at the third piece of them—it looked so…he was sure he would miss it with tears tonight after having it, then he put it in his mouth.

He heard Morgana's footsteps—he put his finger into his mouth but she saw some crumbs on his face—that's enough.

She could see that he was rather nervous since he was scratching his rids with one hand—she looked at him harshly.

"You see, _mistress_, they dropped… I thought you would not want them any more." He said, almost collapsed.

"Really?" she mocked in an impatient tone.

"They did." He smiled at her in a fawning way, "I am rather hungry, and the biscuits…they smell dainty, why not have some now?"

His eyes were always damped around and she was sure that's how he had smiled to Morgause. _Right_, she thought bitterly, _you could have your biscuits and tea because this would the last time in your life_.

She seated herself by the table with Merlin—this might also be the last time, but she didn't care (why she would care?)—she had things which were more important to tend to, like the route to Caerleon, she must find the map that Gorloris gave her since she would set off early the next morning, with Merlin shackled next to her horse.

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**Let's see, what a mess here! I hope that despite Morgause was huanting around, Merlin and Morgana would still be okay. Sorry if I make the two sisters enemies, actually in the TV series, I don't quite appreciate their relationship. I always think that Morgause and Morgana were different in their personality, yet Morgause kept making bad influences!**

**Tell me what you think, and the next chapter will be the last chapter of this story.**


	4. Chapter 4 (part I)

**I am terribly sorry—I have been fully occupied by all the exams and schoolwork until yesterday and I just dashed to have this story updated. For those who still read this story, all I would like to say is "Thanks and hope you enjoy this chapter!" **

**Here it is, chapter 4, which is supposed to be an one-shot but I have to split it into two, or maybe three parts, considering that its sequel could be read by itself(yeah, I am still planning on it) . Part one is just a teaser, about what our famous seer has seen in her dream, and maybe some suggestions on what's to come. Part two will be coming soon. **

_**Dawn: Thanks for all your sincere reviews! They are so lovely that I extend the whole story!**_

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**Part I**

She rolled in her bed. Her eyelids fluttered. It was like she was having her nightmares again. Except the fact that Merlin was still sleeping, breathing his soothing breath into the corner of her chamber as usual. The summer air in the night smelt like a mixture of mint and water. Dawn would soon arrive, bringing the darkest hour before sun rose.

_There was a tiny butterfly flying around the wooden window post outside the window, which was strawberry-red, moving like a fluttering flame. She was chewing her slices of toast in her own silent way. Merlin could sense that there was something troubling her. The problem was definitely not about the toast—they were not burnt, nor were they taste any bad. _

"_It's everything turns out alright, Miss?__"__ He asked in a light-hearted way. Morgana was sure his light-heartedness was not feigned. Even if most of the time with his light-heartedness and such enquiries he would receive some words of bitter sarcasm. Sometimes it would be ignorance. There was a moment of silence, but it didn't mean that it was ignorance. No, not this time. She put the toast down, took a sip of tea, and then ordered him to be over where she was seated, in an aloof way. Or maybe it was fake aloofness—the witch just wanted herself to be as calm as possible, because when Merlin moved his way towards her, closer, she could sense that not everything was in its rightful order—the closer he got, the more maddening it would be—but she had to ignore all of these and pretend that she sensed nothing at all._

_She put her hands on his shoulders. And he just stood there and looked into her eyes. It was one of his strange ways in which he usually made contact with her, and as usual, there was a flash of feeling that flushed back in her mind. Every time when she lifted her eyelids a little to cast him any look, only less than a few seconds, she would be reminded why she had chosen him that day from Helios with no more than three of her gold coins and took him home. But she didn't even really think of it, because the only thing that mattered now was how much money she could get from the bounty hunter. _

_She began to place the incantation, and Merlin's eyes widened. There was nothing more, actually, except his short moment of widened eyes and his lips parted a little, and then they shut again, as if he intended to ask or say something but suddenly changed his mind. But for Morgana, the situation was completely different. All the magic that flowed towards him from her made her palms and forearms warm and a little bit sore in a very unusual way. Yet she still didn't pay much of her attention. She just dropped him, quickly finished her tea and went to her chamber to gather the stuffs that would be needed later. _

_She thought that the spell had functioned normally so she let Merlin walked beside or behind her horse without the pair of shackles. He was very quiet and he followed her across the river and passed through the forests._

_He asked her for some water. She threw the waterskin to him. It dropped in his forelimbs with a solid sound. There were sunshine spying through the dispense leaps in the woods. He took several mouthfuls, and then continued to walk. While he was walking, he sometimes gave her questioning looks, but she just pretended that she didn't notice. Morgana cared nothing about what young children were actually thinking. _

_As her mount turned around the corner, the bounty hunter's hovel appeared. Dark, shabby and damp. A bounty hunter could never live in a place like that—of course. He just used it as a place of transaction—keeping all his 'cargos' there, putting them in cages and exchanging them to the King Uther's with packages of gold. _

_Melin's face turned pale. _

_She got off the horse, beckoned Merlin to follow her, regardless of his whitened face and knuckles, the dread in his expression and the reluctance in every step he took. _

_There stood the bounty hunter, Halig, a giant and corpulent man with his beast-like eyes shinning with excitement. _

_The next thing she knew was his voice. _

"_Well, well, well," he chanted, "so we have another young sorcerer again, within no more than two weeks!" He moved closer to Merlin, his big nostrils swinging upon his face, "I am always here, well-prepared for all of you to come, and don't you think you are too tiny to be spotted by Camelot's knights and guards!" he held his head up and laughed, then turned to Morgana, "Now young maiden, please, sit here, we shall have our cup of tea and wait for our pockets to be filled with gold and silver! But firstly, you'd better show me what he may actually accomplish." _

"_Thanks for offering, but I am not thirsty." she simply said, "now, Merlin, light the candle up over there.'_

_Merlin stared at her for a while, and then walked over to light the candle up with some matches on the table. _

_She was more than furious now—because when she yelled at him "Where the hell had your magic gone" she heard Halig chuckled mockingly. And Merlin, he was making his way towards the entrance, "No," he said in a hesitant voice, and then again, but it was stiffer, "Not this time, Miss."_

_How was that even possible for him to bid his resistance? He supposed to do whatever she told him to after she placed him the spell!_

_But then, she seemed to think of something, think of the soreness and warmth when she conjured this morning. Something didn't seem quite right._

_She turned around in her bed._

_The next thing she knew was she leveled herself to the height of his, "Light the candle, Merlin, with your magic, alright? Light it, and then I'll take you back." She said to him, with the softest and most gentle voice she could think of. It was almost like a pleading._

_He leveled his gaze to the ground, which was quite Merlin-ish and he nodded. It seemed that there was some relief on his face._

"_Good….See, I told you, he has magic." _

_She saw the yellow teeth showed themselves on the bounty hunter's face as he smiled. _

"_Very well, then."_

_She tucked the packet of gold coins in the bag around her waist after the trade._The same as every time she had ever done anything to _Merlin_, she would never look at him again but just walk_ed_ away.

_Then the scenario changed. She saw herself screaming and both of her hands were stuck with blood. _

Her eyes snapped open. Panicked, she found that she was still in her room. Thank God.

* * *

The first beam of morning light had just reached her sheets in the bed. Merlin had already got up—she could hear the kettle was on –the water was boiling.

She saw that red butterfly behind the widow, batting its wings against the wooden flame. Her surroundings were immersed in the sunshine, lazy and warm, yet there was a thrill shaking down through her ribs—everything was what she had dreamt about hours ago, and…where on earth did all the blood come from?!

"What would you like to have with these slices of toast, Miss?' he asked her, _light-heartedly_.

She sighed. All right then. She thought. If everything she had dreamt would be meant to be, it was time for her to stand up and fight against the destiny. However, her mother's voice banged up, "Never underestimate what your dreams may tell you, let along choose not to listen!" she said solemnly.

Yet she was still young. Never had the sixteen-year-old _Seers_ been any cautious, nor would they be aware of the similarity they got as their mothers. They may always make the same mistakes.

She just had to change what may have happened; nothing would forever be destined, would they? All she had to do was to change. Perhaps from now on.

"Eggs will be fine." she answered.

She remembered that in her dreams she had been having some mushrooms with the toast instead.

Likewise, maybe the route to Caerleon should be changed. She could make her passed the valley of Fallen King instead to get to Halig's hovel. After that with all of the gold coins, she could go through Ealdor to the north part to get to the border of Queen Annis territorial, though this may make the journey a little bit longer compared to the original one through Cornwall. In her mind, getting the money should be the first thing taken into consideration.

"It's everything turns out alright?' he asked her. Although she hated the fact that it was another indication to show her the very much of the likelihood that something was destined to be, she still needed to fight for her own good. (Although she hate the fact that it was another indication—to show her very much of the potential that her dream was coming to reality).

"Of course." she answered, even if she was taken aback at the excessively light tone of herself. She was trying to hide her nervousness again.

"Look, a butterfly." he waved a hand to the one on the window frame, "it's a beautiful day, Miss, and maybe... we can go out for a ride.'

He said his suggestion for a ride with a very low voice. With all the loud scrunching sounds he made when violently rubbing a pot, she still heard what he said.

Suddenly an idea had come up to her. Compared to the idea of putting a spell over him, this seemed much better.

"Well, but you don't have a horse." she teased him, in that light tone again, hoping that she didn't sound abnormal.

"Right..."he nodded.

'Don't worry, Merlin. I think we are going out after all. I will take you to a puppet show. You would like it.'

That's what you have to do when talking to a child, especially when taking to a child like Merlin. You had to be extremely patient: describing thoroughly about how a puppet show was performed in details or he would keep asking (she was trying to recall the one Gorlois took her to), tolerating the excited little face of his and at the same time drinking a cup of tea. For all the gold coins she would get, she had to put up with these. (Or did she?)

"Why we had to carry all the stuffs?" he asked her when she told him to carry the two heavy backpacks and place them on the mount.

"Puppetry takes quite a long time.' she told him, "we need to put up a tent. And there are some tools for a picnic."

'So am I supposed to do some bakery?'

"No, leave it, Merlin. We can catch some fish." seeing that he wasn't fully convinced, she confronted, "Come on, we have magic, we can get our selves something to eat without any trouble."

He nodded and then walked to her horse. She tried not to place that smirk on her face or scream aloud.


	5. Chapter 4 (part II)

**Part II**

She even let him climb on her horse to carry him past some kind of meadow, across a bridge and through a short patch of woods. Actually most of the time they just sat together on a horse, Merlin in the front and Morgana on the back.

She found out that he was not quiet at all—maybe this was because she didn't place any spell on him during breakfast. In fact, he was quite noisy—he kept talking to her and kept singing. It was a song about a colourful bird tweeting on the tip of a steeple, as she could tell, and it sounded like all those sung by women who were doing their washing by the river—melodious and low, somehow made it sort of hilarious when sung by Merlin's voice of a little boy—still high pitch and ringing all the way. She didn't really think she knew the song, though. Most of the time she was staying with Gorlois and before that, when she was still staying with her mother, all she could hear was something religious and mysterious, as the daughter of a High Priestess.

It was a lazy moment –sun rays piercing through the shade above their heads. They stopped to rest and have some redcurrant for lunch.

"Have you ever seen a unicorn, Miss?" he asked her as they moved onwards.

"Don't think so. It's quite hard to spot one these days. Actually they seem to disappear ever since the day Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther Pendragon, slaughtered one in the forest near Camelot." she answered him nonchalantly. "They are beautiful animals." He said quietly, using the word "animal", "I can even sense them now in the forest. They just don't want to show themselves. "

_That's because we were heading west to Camelot and it's getting near_—she bit her tongue without a sneer that was supposed to come out.

But he didn't say anything anymore. They just kept silence and kept moving-he wasn't singing anymore.

Morgana thought he might have fallen asleep—she sniffed. She was told by Gorlois that one could never take when passing through the Valley of Fallen King.

She reached the waterskin, thinking that the weather today was extremely warm—then something sharp and clear flew pass her hem of dress and crashed directly at a tree right at her back. It should have reached her belly if it were not for Merlin's flash of golden of his eyes. It was obviously a bolt.

Merlin heard his mistress crying out "It's Cenred's men and they'd spotted us! We need to Run" and kicked the horse insanely making it dashed. After about two hundred feet they ran, the horse was taken aback by a dozen of men who were aiming the spears and bows at them when she dragged the reins before any of them got hurt.

She had to draw back, thinking that really she shouldn't have changed the route and shouldn't have ignored Morgause' reaction several days before, because that's exactly what she meant speaking of_ the last chance for Morgana to change her mind_—then it was all of them—clad in black and silver armour with a snack pattern on the front—Cenred's men, dozens after dozens of them, groups after groups—when she was forced off the horse, she somehow managed to reach her sword and knocked whoever it was that grasping her shoulder with its hilt on his stomach to a state of unconsciousness.

She swung her sword, running it through a black figure in front of her, and then spun around to another one in the back. She stirred to fight, remembering Gorlois telling her what a great warrior she looked like when she first swung a sword around—it was something that made her laugh for a while at that time, but she was an outstanding one now indeed cause the men fell, one after another and for those her sword couldn't reach, if possible, she would summoned the broken arrows or spears or what ever it was sharp to shoot at them.

In this chaos, she got a glimpse at Merlin, who somehow managed to get off the horse and find a place that was not easily spotted. And she could see that he was trying everything he could think of to help her get rid of the attackers-he summoned the branches to give them brunt knocks on the head and sharp pierces in the chest.

There were too many attackers though, too many for them to get rid of, too many of them to escape from—even though they had magic. Thinking that her horse and Merlin were too far away to reach, she took to her heels as soon as she got the chance only with her sword grasped in her hand and trying to dig out a probable place to hide—until then she was kicked on the waist by someone who had just sprung out of a tree-her sword dropped from her hand clanging itself to the ground several yards away where she couldn't reach, and before she was able to summon it back when she was still on the ground without a straight-thinking mind, she was dragged back on her feet and shackled around her wrists.

Her sword was on the ground, her sword, which was suppposed to pierce through the two of them pushing her to walk, was now lying in silence on the ground—no matter how she tried to use her magic to make it. She ripped and swore in frustrations. It was the handcuffs—she didn't even have to think through the whole think to reach the conclusion—Morgause was always good at spells of restriction.

The head of the troops was all in black, a delighted look on his face. "Morgana! Finally. Such a hot potato indeed!' He got off his mount and walked towards her, reaching one of his hands in gloves to touch her chin, "well, you're as beautiful as they told!"

She pulled away to avoid him, "Step back with your filthy fingers, you coward!"

"Careful of your tongue, miss." He lowered his voice and gave her a vicious look, "what if I tell the king how many men of him you have just killed?"

"What does he want from me?"

He only gave her a sniff. Coldly in his nose.

"I think that our king had dropped you enough implications, miss. But you choose to ignore all the...warnings."

Then he commanded with a loud voice towards the rest of the men, "Let's go back. The king's waiting!"

"Leave _Morgana_ alone!"

The entire group turned around before they could move.

It was Merlin—hobbling his way, face distorted by pain and then crumbled several feet before them.

Oh dear, Morgana cursed inwardly, staring at Merlin's calves—one of them was wounded by a bolt—his dirty breeches had already been stained by a dark cloud of blood. Yet he was still shouting at that them.

"Leave her! You're not going to take her anywhere!"

"Well, who's this gangly little prick?"

When she heard the voice of the head, she could already sense the cruelty.

"Merlin! Why are you still here?! And look at what a trouble you've got yourself into!" she opened her mouth before she even realised it to urge him, and then turned to the head, "really, sir, I don't think you have to execute him, because as you can see…"

There was a sudden gust of wind before she could finish, spiral and stormy and violent—she had to snap her eyes closed and with a sharp broken squeak of metal her handcuffs was broken in to two pieces-and when she opened her eyes once again as the wind sped down, she was more than amazed that they were gone—all of the Cenred's men and horse were gone.

* * *

**Well, who was protecting who?!**

**Merlin was acting like a hero and... Morgana just kept bumping into what was destined to be... D:) Tell me what you think!**


	6. Chapter 4 (part III)

**Mostly Morgana's POV in this chapter and there will only be an ****epilogue**** left for this story. Come and have a look at the moment between Merlin and Morgana.**

* * *

**Chapter 4(part III)**

She looked for him—his unconscious body, five yards away, in between those broken pieces of cloaks, spears stuck into the ground and the grass trampled by the horses. Wrapped in ragged and dirty clothes and breeches, one calves bleeding and, because of his sudden outburst of _magic_, he was now exhausted. For a moment as she drew closer, there was a flash of sickening feeling crossing her mind that he might have been dead, already.

She went down next to him, flapping his arms and cheeks calling his name, asking him if he could hear her. No response.

She really wished that this was a situation when Merlin had slept in and she could just pinch him—and then he would fly his eyes open, looking at her—his sleepy blue eyes…no, she would never do this to him again. But all she had to do now was to think of a spell to take him back to consciousness.

Then before she did anything he opened his eyes a little to squint at her—he saw a smile with relief growing wide on his mistress face but he had no choice but to close his eyes again—after that he couldn't hear her anymore.

There was one thing for sure though, she thought, that he wasn't dead.

She carefully picked him up from the sunburned ground-he was quite gangly, yet it still took her some strength to hold him up from the ground and carry him to her mount. She placed him on the horse and climbed on it herself, and when she took the reins, she didn't think she had to spread her palms to check out whether they were stuck with blood. Because she knew they were, she had already seen them the night before and now, that's where it actually came from…where it actually came from…

The blood was now not only stuck on her hands but her riding suit as well.

So that's the other way, she thought, she had changed the route and had to passed the Valley of Fallen King which was always infested with Cendred's men. Now before anymore of his men could find them, especially before Morgause found out that the whole troop of _her king_'s men had disappeared, she had to get to Caerleon.

Another thing was that she had to find a place to make Merlin stop bleeding and heal him before it was too late.

_For everything she had done, how stupid she was_, she thought as the horse headed towards the north, running as fast as possible.

* * *

It was nearly midnight when she drawn close to the border of Ismere—which meant that all she had to do was to cross that mountain in sight to finally get to Caerleon. They were in the northernmost part of this land and Morgana first got a taste of its coldness by being hit by the raindrops falling from the dark cloudy sky.

She somehow managed to find a cave that was a little bit dryer and safer for them to hide. There were thunders outside and some lightening cracked as the rain continued to fall. After all the suffering, she could see that Merlin was having a bad fever as the result of the infection on his leg, though she had tended to his wound earlier, picking the broken piece of arrow out of his flesh and tore a strip of cloth from her skirt to used as a bandage.

There was nowhere dry enough to lay Merlin down, so she found a place to sit down and rest his body on her lap. She lighted up several bunches of fire around them to keep them warm, hoping that the surrounding places could be dried. Then all worn out, she sank her body into the ground against the wall of the cave and breathed out a sigh. Merlin rested his head on one of her legs, limbs saggy. Morgana knew that he was in an extreme condition—he tossed around frequently, rubbing his cheeks against the fabric of her trouser in agony. When she was thinking the spell to free him out of this, she heard him mumbling—he was now in a situation of delirium.

The fire was flickering and for the first time of her life, she had got a chance to really look at him, to hear him and although this was very much of involuntarily, she hold one of his palm with her hand—thinking that it was cold and it may get colder and colder if her brain was still this blank.

She heard him muttering "_Hunith_" and something about the performance of a puppet show—it was almost a repeating of her words today, but it was like a force that dragging the walls around her hearts to crumble—her gaze towards him softened and for the first time ever since Gorlois had passed away, she began to regret everything she had done.

Merlin, the slave she bought that has goofy ears and grins and always in ragged and blundered had someone he loved and cared about. Hunith. The fact was like a shake down through her spine that he and she were not totally different—he was the one that would get hurt after everything she'd done to him—forgetting didn't mean that he couldn't feel at all, or couldn't love—like her. In fact, it was him—he was the one that would do anything for her, and she could tell from the way he looked at her that he really cared about her—and since the very first moment she was like the hatred to his love, the evil to his purity, the betrayal to his loyalty and the darkness to his light.

His eyelashes left a gentle shadow on his dusty little cheek, and she peeled his old boots where his wounded leg was tagged in off.

"I'm not going to leave you this time, I promise." She pushed him closer and whispered, 'thank you Merlin…thank you for everything you had done to me. And I am sorry… for everything I have done…to you."

Then didn't know whether it was for expressing her gratitude or asking for his forgiveness or both, she placed her lips on his messy hair and pressed him a little kiss. There was grief on the corner of her mouth.

* * *

She crept towards her bag packs and managed to pull out some of the potions she randomly picked up with her this morning and went back, chose one of the appropriate, unplugged the plug and hold up Merlin's head.

After the drug was consumed, it was time for her to do the spell. She placed a hand above Merlin's forehead and all the words of Old Religion that her mother had taught her and she had just remembered came out from her mouth as her eyes turned into a colour of dark gold.

But all the result she got was that soreness and warmth_ again_, the same ones in her dream when she tried to place that spell on Merlin in order to _make him listen to her_.

She swallowed.

She dared not to try another spell—any of the errors she might get may cause a deadly effect. So she tried this again.

Nothing happened. Merlin frowned unnervingly.

It was rather cold outside, yet she was sweating she tried again and again until she was in despair—she couldn't do anything and she was going to lose him within several hours—yes, she was going to lose someone again, last time it was Gorlois and this time Merlin—and it was terrible to find out that she couldn't do anything at all but to watch them slipped away—she felt bad as if she had murder them in person.

The witch was quite surprised to find herself full of tears—right, her _long gone_ tears were now making her cheeks feel icy as they streamed down—also, she heard the tremble voice of herself begging, "Please…Merlin…don't die..."

Don't die—_I am going to instruct you in magic because you are quite gifted you even safe my life (more than once within a day), and I've grasped several of the books out of the hovel —I am going to take you to the puppet shows when summer comes if you want—I will take care of you and protect you just like you've always done to me and even better._

Just, _live_…Merlin…

She closed her eyes and placed her hand above him again—this time as the spell was out, the power flowed fluently.

Merlin was now lying in peace; his breath sounded familiar—the one he got in the nights when they were in the _same_ chamber.

The fire was dying out. She let him rest his head against her thigh to make him a good sleep and closed her own eyes. Soon they would be in darkness, but they wouldn't be there for long.

She put her fingers inside her pocket and find that there were several gold coins in it—three in total, the same amount as she gave Helios to take Merlin home—of course, they were far from adequate to buy her and Merlin a new home in Caerleon, so she decided that she'd better keep them, maybe for quite a long while. But she didn't care—after all, she had Merlin at the moment, that's all that matter.

There were some tinkling sounds coming from the darkness breaking the silence—maybe it was the witch idly toying with her lucky gold coins as she dozed off.

* * *

**Merlin is known as an immortal and Morgana an outstanding healer in Arthurian legends, interesting.(smirk)**

**Reviews, please?**


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